States Pressed as 3 Boys Die at Boot Camps

New York Times/July 15, 2001
By Michael Janofsky

Salt Lake City -- The death of Tony Haynes, a 14-year-old, in
the
Arizona desert this month is increasing calls for stronger regulation
of
outdoor camps for troubled youths, an industry that has grown
substantially
over the last 20 years.

At least 31 teenagers in 11 states have died at these camps since 1980,
including 3 this year, in widely diverse circumstances.
In Arizona, investigators said they were told that before Tony Haynes
died
counselors physically abused him and forced him to eat dirt.
In February, Ryan Lewis, a 14- year-old, hanged himself at a wilderness
therapy camp in West Virginia. His parents have asserted that the camp
operators did not recognize the severity of his depression.
That same month in Florida, Michael Wiltsie, 12, died at a camp for
troubled
boys after a 320-pound counselor restrained him on the ground for
nearly 30
minutes.

These are exceptional cases, given the thousands of children each year
who
attend such camps, normally without incident. Parents who enroll their
children and teachers often credit the camps with taking young people
away
from gangs, drugs and alcohol and instilling in them a new maturity and
sense of self-confidence. They operate on the theory that rugged
conditions
and tough discipline can break antisocial behavior or even criminal
habits.

State and local courts also use the programs, as an alternative to
jail.
Yet the deaths and reports of abuses are putting increased pressure on
states to adopt regulations to govern the roughly 400 boot camps
operating
around the country. While most states have laws against child abuse and
endangerment, many do not specifically compel these camps to meet
certain
standards for procedures and personnel.

"There are significant disparities from state to state," said Kimball
DeLaMare, a camp owner in Utah and the chairman of the National
Association
of Therapeutic Schools and Programs, a trade group. "Over all, they
have not
done too much, which is one of the reasons we are trying to develop our
own
standards."

Arizona is among those states that have done the least. "You have to
provide
more documents to get a fishing license than to run a camp for young
boys,"
said Chris Cummiskey, a Democratic state senator. "We require nothing
to
demonstrate you have the qualifications to engage in this type of
activity."

Industry officials say they welcome additional governmental scrutiny of
the
camps, some of which operate on contracts with state prison systems.
"Every
state that allows wilderness programs needs to have regulations in
place,"
said Mark Lawrence, an owner of a camp in South Carolina and the
chairman of
the National Association of Therapeutic Wilderness Camps, another trade
group. "And somebody has to monitor them."

Children's advocates and parents of children who have died under
supervision
of camp personnel say abuses would end altogether if states got
tougher,
requiring camp operators to have suitable backgrounds in education,
psychology or social work. "This is one of the big gaps and a big part
of
the problem," said Mark I. Soler, president of the Youth Law Center in
Washington, a public interest law firm. "As a result, kids are not
protected, and they don't even understand that they have rights. They
believe the abusive treatment they get is routine."

Critics also argue that camps should have medical personnel on site,
which
was not the case when Tony Haynes fell unconscious in the desert. After
camp
counselors called 911, the boy was driven to a hospital, where he died.
Cathy Sutton, who has campaigned for governmental oversight since her
15-year-old daughter, Michelle, died at a Utah camp 11 years ago, said:
"The
industry is getting so big, it's harder to regulate. That's why we need
national regulations for these camps or we should abolish them
altogether."

The deaths of Ms. Sutton's daughter and two other young people at Utah
outdoor camps in the early 1990's prompted the state to become the
first in
the nation to put in place rules specifically for the camps. The
regulations
mandated age and background requirements for counselors, a minimum age
of 13
for students, and guidelines for adequate supplies of food, water and
even
sunscreen. State monitors are required to visit the camps several times
a
year, sometimes unannounced.

Ken Stettler, who helped develop the rules for the Utah Department of
Human
Services, conceded that state officials only responded after several
children had died, saying, "States tend to be reactionary, rather than
proactionary."
In the last few years, Mr. Stettler said, he has worked with officials
in
Nevada and Idaho to draft similar regulations.

Other states where
adolescents have died in outdoor programs, including Florida, Texas and
Oregon, have also tightened their regulations, he said. The West
Virginia
Legislature is expected to debate new laws when it convenes next year.
But monitoring these camps poses a fiscal burden for states. For that
reason, Hawaii has banned outdoor camps, and some states with
regulations do
not have the resources to enforce them.

In many states, oversight is minimal. In Arizona, where 10 children
have
died since 1989, the state has not enacted any regulations - despite
such
highly publicized cases as the 1998 death of Nicholaus Contreraz, 16,
which
led to murder charges against six staff members at the Arizona Boys
Camp in
Oracle. The charges were later dropped, but the family won a $1 million
settlement of a wrongful-death lawsuit.

"We had extensive hearings and a lot of clamoring to strengthen
regulations
and oversight," said Mr. Cummiskey, the Arizona legislator, of the
response
to the deaths. "But we have a Legislature with conservatives who take a
skewed view that oversight and regulation should be left to the free
market."
David Petersen, a Republican state senator, disagreed. "I haven't seen
any
real efforts by anyone to champion the cause," he said. "Sometimes you
need
a jolt to drive home the issue. With this latest tragedy, I do believe
we
will get involved."

For now, the industry is trying to devise its own standards. Of course,
meeting those standards - providing doctors and better-trained
personnel,
for instance - might also increase the cost of running the camps,
making
them less affordable to poor and middle-income families.

There are also problems that will never be solved through regulation.
Michael Conner, who runs a nonprofit consumer protection organization
for
wilderness therapy programs, said parents had to assume some
responsibility
for the safety of their children. "The biggest problem is that people
don't
always know what they're getting into," he said.

Paul and Diana Lewis of East Longmeadow, Mass., learned that problems
could
arise even after thoroughly investigating a camp. Their son, Ryan,
killed
himself in February, while attending Alldredge Academy in West
Virginia.
After being improperly medicated, he cut himself with a knife four
times
before asking counselors to take the weapon away, Mrs. Lewis said. When
he
asked to call his parents, his request was denied.

The next day, counselors returned the knife to the boy. Hours later, he
was
found hanging from a tree not far from the campsite. The authorities
ruled
it a suicide. Camp officials said they had violated no state
regulations.

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